❝ᕼEᒪᒪ ᕼᗩTᕼ ᑎO ᖴᑌᖇY ᒪIKE ᗩ ᗯOᗰᗩᑎ SᑕOᖇᑎEᗪ.❞
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( SHADOW AND BONE ━ SEASON ONE )
( BOOK ONE OF THE INFERNAL TRILOGY )
(disclaimer: I do not own SAB. I only own Anya Oryalen and other scenes and characters...
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"Did you see it?" someone asked their companion, their voice but a whisper in the busy streets of Ketterdam. "Did you see the way half the menagerie went up in flames?" another one wondered. Word spread fast in the barrel, like a wildfire, everyone hearing about the misfortune that befell the poor tante Heleen. While some couldn't care less about the woman, others were curious what really happened and who did it in the first place. And one of the few people who knew, was no one else then Kaz Brekker.
"An interesting development. The question is, where can we find her?" Dirtyhands questioned. "If she even wants to be found." Jesper remarked. The three crow's had gathered themselves in Kaz's office, trying to determine a plan before calling in the rest of the dregs if necessary. "We need to find her today. Or we'll have have big problem." Inej chimed in, a serious look on her face. "Before we do that, Inej, you said this almost sankta of yours freed that friend from the menagerie. Did the girl describe what the inferni looks like?" Brekker noted, folding his hands neatly over the head of his cane as he sat down, the ghost of a plan formulating in his mind.
"The girl said that she washed up ashore in the harbor. Big scars carved in het face. They weren't too young but not to old either. She's short, brown hair with dark eyes. It might seem tough but Kesh mentioned that if she's near you, you'd know." The sharpshooter snickered slightly "Must be some intimidating fiery presence." He joked before earning a cold glare from Kaz. "This is serious. It's only been a few hours since it happened and Pekka Rollins already caught wind of it."
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If Anya didn't know any better, she swore that news had already spread about the lighting of the menagerie. Walking in the shadows of the streets, the raven-haired heard many theories arise from its people.
'Apparently it was an attack from a competitor.'
'I heard it was a failed assassination.'
'Really? It was probably an accident caused by one of the costumers.'
'You're all idiots. This was the handiwork of a grisha. And not just your run of the mill inferni if you ask me.'
Unlike most of the other young grisha at the little palace, the Oryalen woman was keenly interested in the world when she was a child. Besides her harsh training, the inferni would sneak out and run to the library, snagging a book or two, maybe three, under her kefta every once in a while. She'd read stories of long forgotten saints and creatures like dragons and the places they came from.
Her eyes would wander over all kinds of different versions of maps, always ignoring the dark scar that was the fold on them. Like any other sensible person would, the young grisha woman wanted to learn as much as she could about the world, for one day that information might be worth her weight in gold times three. Or maybe even a key in her survival.
